USS Master Chief
by Project Phoenix Agent 003
Summary: Years after Master Chief's disappearnance, the Halos are still a prominent threat. A single Spartan-class cruiser has been tasked with the destruction of the entire Halo Array. They will face rampant monitors, Jackal pirates, Brute slavers, and the Flood
1. Welcome Aboard the Ship

My name is Alec-1308. I was born on Earth, raised on Reach, and I've been a professional soldier since birth. I'm a Spartan.

Before I was conceived, my parents made the conscious choice to have their reproductive systems altered, consequently altering the DNA of any future children they may have. That child was me. I was born physically superior to any human being ever. When I turned six, I bid my loving parents goodbye and went to what would become my home: Reach.

Years ago Reach was decimated by the Human-Covenant War. Now reterraformed, Reach is once again the gleaming planet it once was. Then it was the heart of the UNSC. Now, it is the home world for the most iconic species under jurisdiction of the United Species Space Command: the Spartans.

Once on Reach, I was trained ragged until I reached the standard age of twelve. Then came the augmentations I had been genetically bred to endure and survive. Two more years of training was all it took to get me to be considered a man in Spartan culture. I got my own Mk IX MJIOLLNR armor, and was given full control of my life. Like most Spartans, the quite life on Reach didn't suit me. So I enlisted alongside my old friend Carlos-1337.

That was years ago. Now after years of fighting Fanatics, Insurrectionists, losing Carlos, and saving my fellow Spartans from extinction during an attack on Reach by time lost Covenant fleet, I've got a new assignment. I've been assigned to the _USS Master Chief _for a "top priority mission". How hard could it be?

"Good to see you Sergeant Major," the human ODST greeted me. "Welcome to _MC_."

"Good to be here soldier," I told him with a nod. "I take it you'll be giving me the tour of this ship?"

"Yeah, I drew the shortest straw," the ODST joked. Or maybe he was telling the truth. "You're standing on the first Spartan-Class Cruiser ever built by the USSC by the way, and the first ship to combine technology form the Covenant and humans. She's a little old school now but, she's home."

The ODST showed me the hangar, stocked with a squadron of Gauntlet fighters and Katana bombers. Nowhere near the amount that would be found on a carrier, but enough to be useful in a pinch. Then came the gun decks, where I got a close look at the massive plasma turrets, pulse lasers, and even the ship's dual MAC guns. The bridge was next up, but first the ODST wanted to show me the quarters and "introduce me to the crew". I really hope he didn't intend on introducing me to every soldier and worker on this ship. That could be time consuming.

The door to the rec room—which was big enough to allow two Hunters to pass through at once—opened. I was expecting a few ODSTs, maybe another Spartan, an Elite perhaps. What I was not expecting was two Hunters to tumble in front of me, pounding each other with their massive shields and waving their fuel rod cannon arms like maniacs.

Years of training kicked in as I shouted, "Contact!" and grabbed the MAR5 attached to my back.

I was just about to fire when a voice shouted, "Hey hey hey! Watch it! Cool your guns Spartan!"

I looked to the source of the voice to see a Grunt, standing there proudly in standard issue USSC Grunt armor with arms raised, as if the gesture could magically stop the plasma rounds from firing form my gun. He must've caught me staring, because he asked, "What, you've never seen a Grunt before?"

"Not it's not that," I try to explain as I put away the MAR5.

"I swear your kind are all alike," the Grunt grumbled. "Shoot first, shoot later. Who cares about asking questions."

"What was that Ch'p?" a female voice asked.

The Grunt's eyes widened and he snapped to the most formal attention I'd ever seen on any being. "Nothing Sergeant Major ma'am!"

A woman, six foot two with dirty blonde hair that came down to just below her ears and wearing red MJOLLNIR IX armor minus the helmet, walked over, eyed the Grunt's salute, and nodded. "At ease."

The Grunt breathed a sigh of relief and slouched over in over-relaxation. The ODST who'd been serving as my guide snapped a salute, although his was nowhere near as rigid as the Grunt's had been. She nodded, and he returned to ease.

"Sir," the ODST said to me, "meet Sergeant Major April-2247"

"Glad to have another Spartan on board," she said, extending her hand for shaking. After a few seconds of me not shaking it, she puts it down.

"And this little bundle of fun," the ODST said, gesturing to the Grunt, "is Private Minor Ch'p."

He reached over and as a rather cruel—but amusing—prank, pinched shut one of the hoses on Ch'p's breathing harness. Ch'p made a strange choking noise and slapped away the ODST's hand, allowing him to breathe again.

"What did I say about doing that Owens?" Ch'p asked, practically fuming.

The ODST—Owens—laughed. "C'mon man, that was hilarious and you know –ow!"

The "ow" came about after Ch'p gave the ODST a powerful kick to the shins. He hopped up and down on his good leg, cursing the diminutive Private.

"Ouch! That hurt you stubby little bastard!" Owens cursed.

"And don't you forget it," the Grunt warned.

The female Spartan sighed. "I swear you two will never grow up." She gestured to the two Hunters still rough housing in the middle of the room. "The two tanks with feet are…well no one but Ch'p can understand their names, so we just call them the Hammer Brothers."

"Cute," I muse, watching the two continue to rough house in the center of the room. "Do they always do that?"

"Only on days that end in y," Ch'p joked. Again, he could have been telling the truth too.

"And you would be?" April asked.

"Sergeant Minor Alec-1308," I introduce, "at your service ma'am."

"Well, like I said, it's good to have another Spartan onboard," she repeated. She turned to Owens, who was going back and forth with the Grunt about something to trivial for me to remember. "Owens, get moving. The Captain is expecting our good Sergeant on the bridge."

Owens broke off his argument with Ch'p and gave a quick salute. "Understood ma'am. C'mon sir, there's some officers who'd like to meet you."

It was a short trip to the bridge, and soon I found myself, along with Private Owens, entering the control center of the _USS Master Chief._ Busy giving out orders and instructions was a human male roughly in his fifties and dressed in and officer's uniform.

"Lieutenant Chaplan, triple check those engine stabilizers, we don't need a repeat of our last op's 'little mishap'," the man said.

"Yes sir!" came the orderly response.

"Lieutenant Jek, are we cleared for takeoff yet?" the man asked.

A Skirmisher leaned back in his seat and responded curtly, "For the third time, no, we have not been cleared for takeoff. When and if we are, I will let you know, _sir_."

"Glad to hear it," the officer replied with sarcasm. "I see you managed to hold onto your personality during your shore leave."

"Screw you boss," the Skirmisher said causally. The officer merely cursed under his breath.

"Out of all the nav officers in the USSC, I got stuck with you," he grumbled.

The mouthy nav officer grunted in reply and returned to his work…or virtual solitaire. I couldn't tell from my current angle.

"Sir, the new Spartan is here sir," Owens reported.

The man finally turned to and noticed us. I snapped into a ridged salute that put most marines of all species to shame. "At ease," the officer said, and I relaxed as much as any Spartan ever did while on duty.

"Welcome to the _Master Chief_," the officer greeted. "I'm Captain John Cole, commanding officer onboard. Have you been informed of our mission yet, or did SIA feed you code words and black ink?"

"I'm here to serve on the _Master Chief_ for the duration of a top priority mission," I said, quoting the SIA spook to the letter. "Care to fill in the blanks."

The Captain nodded. "Have you ever heard of the Legend of Master Chief?"

"It was my bedtime story on Reach," I reminisced. "A lone Spartan who rose above the near extinction of his kind and destroyed two alien super weapons, eradicated the Flood, and ended the war. He died in the destruction of the Ark."

I remember hearing that story as a kid on Reach with my adoptive mother curled up next to me in the tent, the orange glow of the campfire outside making her look like an angel, even in her MJIOLLNR VIII armor. Those were the days.

Captain Cole nodded. "Master Chief was a good soldier. More than that, he was the galaxy's, not just humanity's, savior. But when he died, he left his most important business unfinished. Master Chief destroyed one Halo and the Installation that makes them. But there are six halos left in the galaxy that can still wipe out countless people of all races. The halos pose a very real threat. Like its namesake, the _Master Chief_ has been tasked with the complete destruction of the Halo Array."

"We're supposed to accomplish all that with this one vessel?" I asked in disbelief.

"Most of USSC command thinks it's a waste of time to send valuable resources on a large scale torch and burn op. Those who were in favor of counter Halo operations were only able to secure an old Spartan-class cruiser, an unprofessional bridge crew, and a few ODST and marine units for the cause," the Captain explained.

"Nevertheless, it's important work we're doing here son. Your quarters have already been prepped."

"Understood sir," I said, and began to walk away along with Owens. But the Captain added one last statement as I left.

"It's good to have you here soldier," he said.

"It's an honor to be here," I replied, and exited the bridge.

_**Well, what did you think? If you'll kindly notice, the commanding officer of the ship is a reference to not one, but two famous halo figures. He's what we call a "descendant". It's been awhile since Halo 3 obviously, as Spartans have developed their own culture and society on their "home planet" of Reach. **_

_**Tell me what you think, because if you don't I'll assume this story is a fail and never update it ever again.**_


	2. Contact with the Enemy

I was assigned to the fifth barrack level for quarters. After bidding Owens goodbye, I made my way to it to store up what little belongings I had. Carlos's dog tags, a burnt out energy sword, my armor, and a single holo-image of my adoptive mother was everything that was personally mine. Everything else was standard issue USSC gear, from my MAR5 assault rifle, the M12 "fifty" sidearm, my all black non-combat uniform, and a twelve inch long combat knife I kept in a handy sheath on my shoulder guard.

Inside the quarters it was surprisingly empty, despite the fact that the four sets of bunk beds making this room capable of sleeping eight. The wall armory was the most decorated. It had two MAR5's and a BR66 hanging on it, as well as three M12 sidearms and at least five different combat knives. The soldier inside me couldn't help but be impressed by the collection of armaments. A small fire team could be armed in this room alone.

I unslung the pack carrying most of my belongings and set it on a bunk that was too neat to have been used recently. I was just starting to store away my belongings in the provided drawers below when the doors opened up and the female Spartan I'd met earlier came in.

"Oh, didn't know you'd already moved in," she said when she saw me.

"The meeting on the bridge was short," I explained simply, and went back to putting away my things.

Silence came over the room as I finished packing my non lethal possessions away and moved to store most of my weapons on the wall armory. I decided to keep the M12 secured on my hip, just in case things got hectic. In my experience, they usually did.

"Been in the military long?" she asked, suddenly breaking the silence.

It seemed like an odd question to me. Every Spartan I'd ever met had served for at least ten years, if not more. Yes, I had heard of the Spartans that decided to stay on Reach and live more simple lives, or those who pursued other means of employment. But I'd never comes across one.

"All my life," I answered, and went back to relieving myself of my weapons.

"Oh," she says, as if my answer surprised her.

I didn't bother to ask what about my answer caught her off guard, I wasn't really in the mood for talking anyway. She however, seemed to want to talk about it, because just as I slid my last grenade onto the slot, she said:

"I've only been in the USSC for three years now."

"Oh," I didn't know much about her or anyone else on the ship, but that intrigued me enough to lower my guard just a little. "And before?"

"Before, I was a mechanic on Ballast, before that, an apprentice armor smith on Reach," she said, lighting up as I actually returned the conversation. "Before that...well before that I was just an innocent little girl with a crush on one of the other kids at camp."

There was something nagging at the back of my conscious. Something I'd always wanted to ask another Spartan, but never had.

"You were born on Reach?" I said, almost nervously. Maybe it was the fact that she was a Spartan like me, but I felt a little more at ease here with April than I did with most other soldiers off the battlefield.

She nodded a yes. "Weren't you?"

I'm not sure what answer I would've given her, but I didn't have to worry about that because at that moment an alarm sounded.

"All hands man your battle stations!" the captain's voice called. "All hands man your battle station! This is not a drill! Repeat, this is not a drill!"

* * *

><p>"Lieutenant Jomac, get weapons firing on that ship ASAP!" Captain Cole ordered. "Lieutenant Jek, get us on their starboard side yesterday!"<p>

The enemy ship, clearly Jackal in design, was smaller but far faster and more maneuverable than the _Master Chief._ As it stood, the nimble starship was evading the _Master Chief_'s flanking maneuver and still managing to fire on them.

"Shields down to sixty percent!" Lieutenant Chaplan shouted.

"Lieutenant Jek, cancel previous maneuver. Hard to port, I want to look those bastards straight in the eye!"

"Aye aye!" came the response.

The enemy ship had loosened its maneuvers, and now to was coming nose forward at its opponent. Two pulses of fire briefly lit across the Jackal vessel's hull, and two bright orange projectiles were seen flying toward the _Master Chief. _As soon as the orange projectiles were away, the enemy vessel resumed a lazy circle around the _Master Chief._

"What in blazes?" was all Captain Cole had time to say.

The two projectiles exploded, or seemed to, a ways off from the _Master Chief, _but from the explosion of the two orange globs came what looked like hundreds of smaller ones, all headed straight for the bridge.

"Lieutenant Jock, all shielding to the-"

The orange globs of energy impacted with the bridge's shields collectively, and a brief flash obscured the view of the bridge crew.

"Shields offline sir!" Chaplan reported.

If the Captain heard Chaplan, he paid no attention. He gripped the railing that surrounded his standing post tight enough to turn his knuckles white. All the while he formulated a plan, the enemy vessel got another chance to fire on the now vulnerable ship. It hadn't taken another shot yet, but that could change any second. It was a weakly armored and shielded vessel. How hard could it possibly be to take it out?

"Lieutenant Jomac, charge both MAC guns!" Cole ordered suddenly.

"Aye sir!" the Elite officer said.

"MAC rounds? We can't hit something that maneuverable with those!" the mouthy Lieutenant Skirmisher voiced.

"Put a cork in it Jek and give those guns a lead on that vessel!" Captain Cole ordered.

"This is never gonna work," Jek commented, even as he obeyed orders.

The Jackal vessel continued to circle the _Master Chief _in a wide arc. Meanwhile, the Spartan class vessel took a slight lead on the attacking craft, giving the unguided MAC rounds a fighting chance.

"Fire on my mark," Cole instructed.

Thel'Jomac prepared to fire. All he need was the order, and a push of a button would send the USSC most deadly weapon flying forward.

"Fire first MAC round!"

"First MAC is away!"

Thanks to the slight lead, the MAC round was still able to hit the maneuvering enemy vessel. It impacted fiercely, lowering the shields of the vessel in one hit. As an added an unexpected side effect, the kinetic energy of the round sent the enemy vessel careening out of control. That made Captain Cole's next order much easier to carry out.

"Fire second round."

The second MAC round impacted with even more deadly force than the first. The ship was torn apart by the round, leaving nothing of the _Master Chief_'s surprise attacker. There was no cheer of victory. Only the single, unspoken cliché that radiated through the bridge. _That was too easy…_

"What the hell was that?" Lieutenant Jek asked. "We just took off not five minutes ago! I can still see _New Harvest_."

"And they didn't do a damn thing for back up," Cole mused to himself. The whole battle had gone completely unnoticed, which seemed impossible considering their still being within sight of the massive space station. Something was off. There was something they were missing.

"Unidentified contacts detected on our scanners." Chaplan said, interrupting the captian's thoughts. "Small, numerous, and fast."

"Boarding craft," Cole said, not even having to have one of the crew check. "The point defense guns can't hit them, can't they?"

Lieutenant Thel'Jomac activated the guns, but the captain's assumption was right. The craft were too close, to small, and too fast for the defense guns to take them all down. One of the five went up in smoke. Then two. Then eight successfully slammed into the _Master Chief's _unshielded hull. They'd been breached.

"Lieutenant Jomac," Captain Cole called to the Elite.

"Yes sir?" was the officer's orderly response.

"Take a unit to the breached sectors," Captian Cole said, "and greet our 'guests'. "

The Elite officer grinned. He had what was usually the most boring job on the bridge, and cooping up a born warrior like that was just wrong. Needless to say, Thel was hungry for some action. It was with a relish you replied with the usually, "Aye sir!"

This was going to be fun.

_**I couldn't quite get the pacing for the chapter right, and believe me, I tried. That being said, this is the first brief plot arc for this story, centered around a band of Jackal pirates. I'd tell you more, but that would give the plot away. So until then, how'd I do?**_


	3. Weeding Out the Threat

_**This was requested by arandomreviewer, and since I had some time on my hands I decided to go along with it. **_

2552- A small Covenant battle group disappears into a Slipspace rift.

2561- United Nations Space Command is reorganized into the United Species Space Command, officially joining human and Elite forces (albeit with some reluctance and mistrust.)

2562- Spartan IV program begins

2565- The Grunts join the USSC, and despite initial protest from more rigid Elite leaders, are put on politically equal footing with other species. Elite versus Grunt discrimination (and human versus nonhuman for that matter) will continue for some time however.

2599- Brute Empire is formed. Jackal Republic is formed. Prophet city-states begin to spring up in isolated areas. Drone and Hunter colonies begin to go into reclusion.

2645- Brute Empire splits into Empire of Servitude and Republic of Sovereignty following civil war.

2652- Isolated Hunter and Drone colonies join USSC. Jackal Republic is dissolved and more civilized (or perhaps crafty) members of the species form colonies large enough in number to join the USSC. Remaining Jackal colonies alternately raid each other's black markets and engage Republic of Sovereignty in armed conflict.

2661- Spartan V program begins en masse. Many test subjects relocated to Reach.

2683- New DNA experimentation of the Spartan VI as well as massive Spartan populations on Reach led to Spartans becoming classified as an independent species in the USSC

2685- Republic of Sovereignty joins USSC. Empire of Servitude continues to threaten peace in Jackal, independent, and USSC space.

2690- USSC engage Empire of Servitude, sparking the first galactic war in over a century.

2758- Prophet Fanatic movement is put down by Spartan mercenary team hired by USSC High Command working in cooperation with a USSC sanctioned strike team.

2760-Alec-1308 and Carlos-1337 join the USSC

2785-Time lost Covenant battle-group emerges from Slipspace rift outside Reach. Attempted glassing is stopped by local Spartans and a USSC strike team including Alec-1308.

2786-Carlos-1337 is the first Spartan ever to be listed as a KIA in USSC history.

2790-Alec is assigned to the _USS Master Chief_

_**And now because FF rules dictate non-stories cannot be posted, here's a new chapter to go along with it. Enjoy.**_

The captain had ordered all hands to man their battle stations. As Spartans and ground forces, both April and I had no battle stations. I wasn't expecting any action, other than maybe the light thump I'd feel when the MAC gun went off. So when an Elite lieutenant entered our quarters with an MAR5 in his hands, my curiosity was caught, even as I snapped to attention.

"Spartans, we have a situation," he told us.

"We've been boarded," April guessed, not waiting for the lieutenant to explain. Apparently though, she was spot on as he nodded in agreement.

"Jackal pirates," he elaborated. "I don't expect much, but I prefer to be prepared. I've heard great things about the Spartan race."

"A good half of it's myth, I guarantee you," April told him. "But we'd be happy to assist sir."

"Very good," the Lieutenant said. "Grab what weapons you need. We need to move quickly before the intruders access any vital systems."

I grabbed my MAR5 while April grabbed two M12 pistols off the wall armory. The officer's id tag on my HUD gave me a name: Thel'Jomac, Lieutenant. He was taller than both April and I, even in our armor. I'd always admired the Elite species. They were a lot like my own race, in fact in some ways more so than humans.

Lt. Jomac led the way, his MAR5 shouldered and ready to fire. April had rear guard, and I was in the center of our three man formation. A voice crackled over our helmets, and I recognized it as the captain of the ship I'd met earlier.

"Lieutenant, the first pod breached a level below your current position. Be careful," the captain warned.

"Relax Cap," April offered over the comm. "A few pirates are nothing we can't handle."

The three of us proceeded down to the level below, eyes and sensors sharp for any hostiles. A single red dot briefly blipped on my motion sensor, and I could tell from the way the others briefly stiffened that they'd seen it too. But it vanished just as quickly as it had appeared.

"Be prepared," the lieutenant warned.

My motion sensor alerted me again, this time to multiple hostiles. And this time, the contacts didn't disappear. The lieutenant made the "move out" gesture and continued forward, still in the lead. But now, to his left was April and to his right was myself.

The Elite officer opened the door ahead of us, and it pulled away to reveal several Jackals, all with linear energy shields activated and all of them armed with old model plasma pistols or energy cutlasses. Lieutenant Jomac open fired first, his MAR5 sending precision honed plasma bolts flying.

I went into a crouch, targeted a pirate on my right and open fired, trying to get a few shots past the pirate's shield. The tactic worked like a charm, and the jackal staggered backward, his body totally exposed. A second burst was sufficient to put him down, and I pivoted to the right in search for another target.

As I open fired with my weapon, I watched April dive to one side, firing as she fell with both pistols. The M12's fifty caliber slugs hit with tremendous forces, often killing a pirate with one shot. The lieutenant however, was the true sight to behold.

He fired his MAR5 as he charged forward, killing one pirate and wounding another. Enemy rounds splashed harmlessly over his shields as he moved forward, and in a blink he was upon them. With strength only an Elite or Spartan could possess, he grabbed a pirate by the wrist, lifted him by the wrist, and hurled him into the bulkhead.

Two pirates frantically open fired on him, trying to save themselves form suffering a similar fate. It was in vain however. By the time Lieutenant Jomac's shield's flared and died out, he'd killed the first of the two with his MAR5 and had his hand around the throat of a second.

One pirate tried to take the opportunity to finish off the unshielded Elite, but his head exploded when April pulled the trigger of one of her M12's.

I spotted the last pirate from this particular pod try to run off, but a quick burst form my own assault rifle dropped him to the ground in a splash of purple blood and plasma bolts. I checked the ammo display, which still read a safe seventy-one.

"Captain Cole, the first group has been neutralized," Lieutenant Jomac reported.

"I'm painting the next location on your HUDs now," the captain replied. "You'll need to hurry, motion sensors are indicating they're spreading out from their boarding craft rapidly."

"Understood sir," our commanding Elite acknowledged.

The next nav marker popped up on our HUDs, and we headed for it at a near sprint pace. We remained in the loose V formation, with the lieutenant ahead and April and I slightly behind to either his left or right.

The counter-piracy firefight went much the same way the first had, and we mopped up enemy without breaking a sweat. The lieutenant had been right not to expect much, these petty criminals were no match for two Spartan veterans and an Elite warrior.

"Jomac, you might want to pick up the pace," the Captain reported. "I have reports of other crew members engaging the enemy already. Motion sensors are also detecting pirates nearing the reactors."

"It will be dealt with Captain," the Elite officer said.

He turned to me, "Spartan-Alec, aid the crew currently engaged against the enemy. Spartan-April and I will defend the reactors"

"Yes sir," I said sharply, though I resented the job I'd been given. It was sounding to be the easier of the two, though both were unlikely to provide any sort of challenge.

Our small team divided then, with April and Lieutenant Jomac headed for the reactors while I headed to the nav marker where some of the crew had engaged the pirates. It was a way off, and the I did not need for soldiers to die because I wasn't fast enough to save them, so I double-timed it in an all out sprint to reach them.

When I did, I found an ODST marine and a small squad of grunts firing from cover against a lance of pirates, who'd formed a near impregnable shield wall.

"C'mon you stubby-legged bastards, shoot like your life depends on it!" the ODST shouted as he open fired with his MAR5. I recognized him as the ODST I'd met earlier, Owens.

"I'm shooting!" one of the diminutive soldiers shouted in anxiety. "I'm shooting!"

"Keep it together numb-skull!" another, clearly more level headed Grunt shouted as he returned fire.

I ran into the fray, enemy plasma hitting my shields and slowly bringing the bar closer and closer to disappearing entirely. I open fired on the Jackals, forcing them to crouch tighter behind their shields and also slowed down the rate they fired at.

In one fatal swoop, I vaulted up and over the wall of shields made by the bird like pirates and went to work spraying rounds into their unprotected backs, making short work of them.

The squad of Grunts cheered at my rescue, all except for one who gave a brief salute and introduced himself. "Good to see ya Spartan, thanks for the rescue. We met earlier."

"It's Ch'p, right?" I asked, remembering a Grunt with an attitude.

"The one and only," he confirmed. " It's about time you showed up, some of the others were startin' to wet their pants."

"Was not!"

"Shut your trap Jipzap I can smell it from here," Ch'p shouted to one of the other diminutive soldiers.

A voice over my helmet's comm channel interrupted the strange display. "Alec, things are taken care of at the reactors. Captain Cole is saying we've got one more boarding craft load to take care of, and this'll be over. Lt. Jomac and I are headed to the location now."

The lieutenant added, "I'm placing a navigation marker on your HUD, we will see you there Sergeant Minor."

"On my way sir," I reported.

"Give 'em hell Spartan," Ch'p said. "I never did like the Jackal race."

I checked my ammo display, which now read forty-three shots left. The overheat meter was still slowly dropping, but that was a non-issue at the moment. His shields were recharging, he wasn't at all tired. In fact, he was as in good a condition as any to fight.

Before I could head for the nav marker though, the unexpected happened like it always does when things are working out. The lights shut off, a low droning sound filled the ship, and emergency back-up lighting switched on a second later. A second after that, they shut off too.

On a hunch, I tried to connect my armor's network to the ship. As expected, there was no response. The ship had mysteriously and quite suddenly lost all power, at least in the sector I was in. My helmet automatically switched to night vision.

"April, power just went out in my sector, something happen to the reactors?" I asked as I took off.

"You too? I swear not a single plasma bolt touched the reactors, they're fine. Powers out over here too," she reported. "I don't like this."

I nodded in agreement, even though she couldn't see me. Power on a cruiser doesn't just go out whenever it wants to. And if the generators were undamaged, what had caused it The Spartan-class was an older class for sure, but was it really _that _old?

"Lieutenant, we have enemy contact near the bridge," Captian Cole's voice interrupted.

Over the comm came the Lt. Jomac's response. "Understood. ETA, three minutes."

"Negative lieutenant, we won't be here in three minutes," the captain said urgently. The sound of plasma fire echoed over the comm, and I caught the sound of a cry of agony.

"I can be there in one," I reported, already sprinting.

There was a pause, and more shots. Finally, the captain's reply came. "Roger that, we'll hold out as long as we can."

I increased speed, barreling down the ship's corridors with thundering footsteps as the heavy MJIOLNR armor pounded against the ground. There was a chance I left a few dents. I was glad none of the crew were along my path, I more than likely wouldn't have been able to stop in time to avoid barreling into whatever got in my way.

Still in the total darkness of the powerless halls, I reached the corridor leading to the bridge. In front of me was a line of glowing energy shields the pirates had seemed to favor, the walls illuminated as plasma weapons discharged and their projectiles streaked back and forth.

The erratic flashes played hell with my night vision, but I could make out the oddly lit faces of a line of defenders guarding the bridge against the pirate onslaught. The enemy had their backs turned to me, and finishing them off was a simple matter of holding down the trigger and sweeping my gun from right to left.

About halfway through, however, the ammo display flashed zero and the weapon stopped firing. What was left of the enemy forces turned and tried desperately to put me down with a barrage of plasma, and my shields began to dwindle. I stumbled backward, yanking out my spent plasma cell as I did so.

My shields continued to dwindle, down to less than half as I finally snapped a fresh cell in and the ammo display reset to one-hundred. I shouldered the weapon and was just about to open fire when one Jackal's skull exploded and a second's body shuddered uncontrollably before falling to the ground dead. I raced forward against the last one and at the same instant he finally lowered my shields, I threw a punch that shattered his skull, broke bones, and sent him flying into a wall.

The warning alarm filled the inside of my helmet for a few moments, and then the shields began regenerating as an eerie post-battle silence filled the air.

I looked to the two people who'd dealt with two of the Jackals. Two human ODST's, a man and a woman, stood panting.

The woman was roughly five and a half feet tall, brown skinned, and with brown hair that came down just below the ears. Her ODST armor had a blue stripe painted down the left arm, and a second blue stripe wrapped around the right bicep. In her hands she wielded an M12, barrel smoking.

The man was six feet even, wore standard to the letter ODST armor, with absolutely no form of customization. It looked fresh out of the factory, not even having any paint on it. His helmet was on, so I couldn't see his face. His weapon, an MAR5, was covered in scratches and had a dent or two in it.

The woman snapped a salute, and as I finally read the name and rank display on my HUD I saw why. The man did the same.

"Chief Erica Johnson and Private-Major Ralph Tucker, sir," she introduced.

"At ease," I said, and they relaxed. "Thanks for the assist," I added.

"Any time sir," Johnson said almost proudly. The man just grunted.

"Sergeant-Minor, report," Lt. Jomac said over the comm.

"Bridge secured sir," I reported. "Not a pirate left breathing."

"That may not be true," the captian's voice put in. Only it wasn't over the comm, it was in person.

Captain Cole stepped forward, face a portrait of grim anger. "Lieutenant Jek is missing."

The lights on the bridge abruptly came back on, and someone screamed. All heads snapped in the direction of the cry, and soon everyone on the bridge was staring at the bleeding, moaning body of Lt. Chaplan.

Johnson rushed to the fallen bridge officer's side, grabbing a biofoam dispenser from the small med kit strapped to her thigh. As the ODST patched up the lieutenant's leg, shoulder, and chest wounds, I examined them from a distance.

No burns, so plasma was ruled out. The penetration wasn't very deep, and the flesh looked more torn apart than blasted to kingdom come, which meant an M12 slug hadn't done it. In fact, it looked very much like Lt. Chaplan had been hacked away at by teeth and claws.

None of the enemy pirates had gotten by, and all the bridge officers, aside from Lt. Jomac who was still en route along with April, were human.

"Not just missing," I voiced. "He might be a traitor."

All heads snapped towards me in shock. "What else leaves wounds like that?"

"But…why would he do that?" a bridge officer asked. "I mean, yeah he's an asshole, but he'd never…would he?"

The captain didn't initially respond. "I don't know. But the Sergeant proves a point. He's the only one that could have done this to Chaplan."

He radioed Lt. Jomac. "Lieutenant, our dear friend Jek has gone missing, and I need you and the Spartans to each lead a team in search of him. Report to the bridge immediately.

"Yes sir," the Elite said obediently.

The captain turned to one of the bridge officers. "Well? You just gonna stand there or are you going to disable the escape pods?"

"The escape pods sir?"

"We don't want Jek leaving before we can talk to him." The captian elaborated as he walked back to his post. "Disable anything that could get him off this ship. Escape pods, drops pods, airlocks, the hangar, I want it all shut down and cut off from the ship yesterday. Nobody leaves or gets on this ship until we have Jek.

"Incoming transmission from _New Harvest, _sir," one of the bridge officers reported.

"Tell them I'll be with them in a moment," the captain said, turning to me. "Spartan-1308, I need you to lead a team down to through-"

Chief Johnson spoke up, interrupting the captain. "Sirs, you might want to take a look at this."

The captain and I exchanged a glance, but none the less wandered over to where the ODST was standing. She angled a thumb up, and we looked to see a ventilation shaft, its screen cover removed.

"In the vents…well, that's not cliché at all," Cole muttered. "The enviormental suite is where he'll be headed then. All vents lead there, and it's the only place that has a large enough vent to exit out of."

He turned to Chief Johnson. "Chief, assemble as much of your unit as you can. You'll support 1308, I want that traitor found."

"Yes sir!" the Chief saluted. She turned to me, "Most of the unit is still off in quarters, but you've got me and Tucker sir."

"That'll do soldier," I assured her. "Now let's move out."

Before too long, we entered the environmental suite. Although safe inside my armor, it was _visibly _clear how humid it was in there. Visibility was being affected, and when dealing with something as quick and agile as a Skirmisher, that could mean the difference between success and failure.

"Fan out, stay sharp," I instruct the two ODSTs accompanying me. Acknowledge lights wink on my HUD, and we soon lost sight of each other. The place was full of massive atmosphere generators, fans, filtration systems, and climate stabilizers, all of which meant big machines that got in the way.

"No sign of him yet," Johnson said over the comms.

My foot kicked something, and the sound of metal against metal echoed through the steamy room. I looked down to see a ventilation shaft screen, and a quick search around revealed where it belonged.

"He's here," I warned. "Private Tucker, move back to the exit, make sure he doesn't escape."

Rather than a verbal response, a blue acknowledgement light winked.

A strange gargle noise akin to the Skirmisher race echoed briefly, and I thought I heard the sound of light footsteps. My motion sensor was blank though, aside from showing my Chief Johnson and Private Tucker.

"Shit! I just saw him, I swear…"

"Nothing on my motion sensor," I told them, just to keep them updated.

There was silence as we continued our search. Suddenly, a red dot appeared on my sensor. "Contact!"

"I've got him too," Johnson said.

"Tucker, stay where you are in case he gets past us," I ordered, still sprinting for the red dot. His acknowledgement light winks again.

I round the corner just in time to see a figure sprint off. My motion sensor confirms it's our quarry. I sprint after him, but he's pretty fast. Just as I round another corner to cut him off, a shape leaps overhead, disappearing behind a filtration engine.

"I've got him in my sights," Johnson's voice says, panting from exhaustion.

"Shoot to wound, we need him alive!" I warn, just as the bang of an M12 fills the ari and echoes through the room, ending the chase.

There is a slight pause before Johnson's voice says, "We've got him.

Back on the bridge, Lt. Jek stood before the captain, wrists bound and restrained by two Elite marines. The captain has already questioned the lieutenant in private, but now he can't seem to look away from the Skirmisher's face.

Finally, after a long silence, he turned to April. "May I borrow one of your pistols?"

She handed it to him, unsure of what's going on. But I had a pretty good idea what was about to happen. The captain planted the pistol's barrel on the Skirmisher's forehead, and his finger rested on the trigger.

"Now, for the last time, where is the _real _Lieutenant Jek?" he asked angrily.

That got a series of gasps and "what?" 's from everyone present.

_**Well this took forever and a half. But the good news is it's out now. I have a very important question to ask though. Was the length of this chapter too long? Not long enough? I'm not quite sure. Anyway, please review, and tune in next time to as the USS Master Chief sets off to rescue a crew member.**_


	4. Moving Up the Beaches

_**I am an author that listens to my reviewers. If I get lots of "love it!" and "keep it coming!" I assume everything I'm doing is good and I keep doing it. If I get a "Love it, would love to see –this-" or "Pretty good, I could use –that-" then I go over that in my head and work it into the story.**_

_**Arandomreviewer requested a history recap. It went live along with Weed Out the Threat. Sweawm asked to know wants a general idea of where this story is going. And so, just for him/her and anyone else who may be wondering:**_

Simply, I've made an almost soap opera like story where this raggedy but formidable old ship and its unique, multi-talented and colorful crew set out across the galaxy on a series of adventures filled with plot, plot twists, sub plots, and so on and so forth. Currently planned adventures/plots/sublots include but are not limited to:

-The exploration and destruction of the remaining halos.

-Ch'p and his quest to save some of his people.

-A relationship between [REDACTED] and [REDACTED]

-Alec's quest to find himself

-Lt. Jomac's quest to reclaim his honor

-Resurfacing of remnants of Prophet Fanatic movement

-The eventual recovery of [REDACTED] and his safe return to [REDACTED].

_**Once again, since Fanfic rules dictate I can't post non-stories, here is a new chapter to go along with the story**_

"I'm sorry captain," April said once she got over her initial shock. "But what? Are you trying to say this _isn't _Lieutenant Jek?"

The captain shook his head, never taking his eyes of off the alleged impostor and never lowering the gun. "Without a doubt. This vermin can act like Jek, but apply a little pressure and he sings like the bird he is."

"Racial slander will get you nowhere _captain,_" he shot, using the word captain like an insult. "You'll get nothing else out of me."

Captain Cole sighed and withdrew from the restrained Skirmisher. "This is pointless."

Chief Johnson cleared her throat, stepping forward. "Sir, if you'd give me a few minutes alone with the prisoner, I'm sure I could convince him to give us the information we need."

Captain Cole raised an eyebrow at the prospect. "Chief Johnson, you're aware that we need him alive even after he's talked?"

The female ODST must've been smiling under her helmet. I could hear it in her voice. "Oh, don't worry sir. I'll be very…gentle."

The captain cast a look of pity in the direction of our Skirmisher prisoner. "Very well. Clear out the observation deck, give the woman a place to work."

April shook her head slightly as the two Elites restraining the prisoner hauled him to the observation deck, Johnson following close behind. They left the bridge, and the door shut behind them. A few moments later, the Elites returned without their live cargo or the ODST interrogator they'd left with.

Erica Johnson, still dressed in full human ODST armor, gave a decent shove, planting the Skirmisher into a chair. "First try, where's our lieutenant?"

The alien spat in response. Not even bothering to wipe the alien saliva from her visor, she delivered a powerful cross face that toppled the chair and sent the prisoner crashing to the floor.

"Strike one," she warned as she grabbed him by his uniform and hauled him to his feet. She gave him a headbutt with her armored head, and he stumbled backward into the wide viewing window with a light _thump_. Before he could say anything, she gave him a hard uppercut to his gut.

"Where is he?" she asked again.

"Do your worst," the bird-reptile said weakly.

"My pleasure," she said, and grabbed him by the uniform again. She hefted with everything she had and threw him into the wall. The alien slumped against the wall as his legs went limp. The ODST Chief approached him, drew her pistol, and fired round into his knee. Purple blood splattered across her visor as the .50 caliber slug tore into flesh and severed bone.

"Guess what happens at strike three?" Johnson prompted.

"You think I'm afraid to die?" the Skirmisher challenged weakly. "I have nothing to lose."

Erica Johnson was losing her patience. She kneeled down and forcefully grabbed the Skirmisher's fresh gunshot wound and forced three crooked fingers in. The alien howled in pain, and then actually began to cry.

"Talk, and I'll end the pain," she offered coldly. "Keep quiet, and I'll make sure you die as slowly and painfully as possible."

"Eayn!" the alien whimpered. "He's hidden on Eayn. Please, just make it stop."

"Where on Eayn?" she pressed. "A planet's a big place to search, I want a location."

"The Pleotan Range," he gasped, feeling the pain pulse up and down his nervous system. "In a cave at the base of the northern end. Please!"

Johnson punched him across the face, knocking him unconscious. She tapped her comm to signal she was done.

"Got a location for you Captain," she reported in. "Our captive needs a medic."

"…how bad is he?" the Captain asked, his voice more annoyed than anything else. However, anger was the second most prominent in his tone.

"Some bruises, some cuts, a few broken bones and possible internal bleeding," the ODST said, examining her own handiwork.

"Is that it?"

"He's probably going to need a new leg," she admitted. "I shot him in the knee. With a fifty."

She heard the captain muttered something, likely a curse, and then responded. "This intel had better be solid Chief Johnson."

"Oh, I doubt he'd lie to me Captain," she said, chuckling darkly.

"Remember, these people were stupid enough to kidnap a USSC bridge officer," April warned over the comm. "That means surrender isn't in their vocabulary, and it means we're up against some firm resistance. We'll be staging a three-pronged attack against the enemy location. The first prong is the _Master Chief_, she'll fire a quick plasma bombardment to soften up any exterior defenses, and let the enemy know we mean business."

I looked across the soldiers who made up my unit. Included in it were Private Owens and Private Ch'p, the two crew members I'd met early during my tour of the ship. Also in the ODST unit were three more humans, two elites, and one other Grunt.

The human ODST armor had changed little from its UNSC days during the Human-Covenant War, but the other species armor was radically different. The Elite ODST armor was something of a cross between Ranger armor and human ODST armor. Its shoulder pads were that of ODST, but the visor was clearly based off of Elite Ranger armor.

The grunt armor had methane tanks far smaller than your average grunt marine keeping the armor lighter and streamlined, and yet it had even lager reserve than marine armor thanks to expert compression and compartmentalization of the tank. It was usually standard grey, but the armor worn by Ch'p had red stripes on it in several places.

"The next two prongs will be squads of ODSTs, led by Sergeant Minor Alec and myself," she explained. "We move in along opposite shores of the range, and meet up at the cave entrance. From there, the units will combine into a single rescue force, locate Lieutenat Jek, and haul his feathery ass out of there."

She was already on a separate Orbital Entry Vehicle deck, on the port side. We were on the starboard side, already setting up our pods for the drop.

"All units, prepare to drop," she instructed, and her comm line clicked dead, putting me in charge of my unit. I grabbed my MAR5 and secured it to its place inside the pod, then made sure my ammo was in place before climbing in, grabbing the bar above my head and bracing myself against the frame. The pods' doors shut on all of us, sealing each soldier in their own private world.

"Dropping in three, two, one."

The pods were dropped, and we all began the plummet to the surface. It was far more comfortable than the HEV drops of old, but it still made you feel like your stomach was being shoved up your throat. The pods shook as it hit the atmosphere, rattling violently.

The heat shields quickly failed, and then the task of keeping the inside cool was left to the exterior plating and the liquid nitrogen coils underneath it. The altimeter continued its drop, the counter decreasing hundreds of meters in little time. Finally, and one-thousand meters, the anti-gravity "cushioning" kicked in and began the difficult and risky business of slowing the pod's decent.

Finally, the pod slammed into the ground at the same time the altimeter hit zero. The impact was nothing more than a _thud_, and then all was perfectly quiet and still. I gave the door of my pod a firm kick, and it came flying off, letting loose a steam of boiled coolants as it did so.

We'd landed on a small volcanic island, its landscape dominated by tropical plant life and high rising mountain ranges. The "beach" we'd landed on was extremely small, and that the bridge crew had managed to put our pods down so accurately amazed me to no end.

Nearby were the pods of the others, but one of them had yet to open. A quick head count and it was easy enough to realize Ch'p was still in his pod for some reason.

"Owens, get the Private out of his pod, we have a job to do," I ordered as I grabbed my weapons and ammunition from my own pod. The rest of the squad did the same. Most of us were armed with MAR5 plasma rifles, but one elite ODST instead carried a Hollowpoint Rifle, a sniper rifle which fired high explosive needle rounds in five rounds bursts so rapid one couldn't distinguish the sound of a burst from a single shot.

"On it," Owens said, and trotted to the pod. With a quick grunt of effort, he ripped the pod door free and tossed it aside, the steam from the pod temporarily obscuring him and its occupant. Then, two figures tumbled out of the steam and rolled across the sand.

"Damn pod wouldn't open," the Grunt's voice complained, getting up off of Owens.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Owens complained. "You know there's a lever that disengages it, right?"

The two got up, and Owens tried to scrape some of the dirt that had stuck to his armor when the steam had hit him. It didn't work out very well though, and even after several sweeps across the plating.

"I told you last time, I can't reach that damn thing," Ch'p growled.

"That's because you insist on not using the Grunt spec pods," Owens reminded him.

"Yeah, yeah, so sue me," Ch'p complained and dug out an M12 and BR66 battle rifle from his pod. "We movin or not?"

In answer to his question, I spoke up in the same, commanding voice I always used when giving orders. "Bravo Team, move out!"

Rule number five of being a Spartan; don't command respect, take it.

April's voice came over my helmet comm a short while into the march, "Alec, there's a glassed strip of land up ahead from the _MC_'s preliminary bombardment. It's still generating some strong heat, you may need to find a way around."

"Roger that," I responded.

Sure enough, we crested a hill to see a wide expanse of blistering glassed landscape. I stretched out across the beaches, penetrated through the canopy of on the side of thetropical fauna that rimmed the island and left and ugly scar mountain.

I held up a hand signaling the others to wait, and moved forward slowly toward the glasses surface. I didn't notice at first, but as I approached the glassed surface the shield bar on my HUD slowly began to dwindle. Then, I took a cautious step onto the steaming surface and my shields disappeared all at once.

Alarm sirens sounded and leg I'd put down got very hot very quickly. I staggered back before moving away from the plasma scared land, and once I was out of range of the more serious heat, my shields began to recharge. I hiked back up to the rest of the squad, the Sergeant Major's fears of us having to find a way around confirmed.

"The land up ahead's too hot from the bombardment," I explained to them. "We're going to need to find a way around and fast, or we risk falling behind Alpha Team."

"Looks like that mountain is our only way around," Owens voiced, scanning the immediate area.

"I hate hiking," Ch'p complained. "Stubby legs, remember?"

"Suck it up soldier," Owens laughed, then cursed after Ch'p kicked him in the shins again.

"Both of you enough," I barked. "I don't care what you do on the ship, but in my unit there is no horsing around. Do I make myself clear?" Antics like that were fine during the quiet hours they probably endured on the ship, but in the field it was childish, unprofessional, and liable to get someone killed.

Both Ch'p and Owens were smart enough to salute. "Yes sir!"

"Good, now let's move out," I ordered. The squad fell in line as we hike across the side of the mountain, trying to skirt the edge of the jagged line the plasma had cut into the landscape. Then, without warning, an Elite's shields flashed bright silver and vanished. A grunt looked around, wondering what had happened when a bright purple shard hit his face, his shields were over taxed, and his face exploded in a splash of blue.

"Sniper!" I shouted, and pressed myself against the side of the mountain. The Elite who'd lost his shields to the shooter crouched low behind a rocky outcropping, but before his shields could regenerate, another shot struck his neck and he went down with a large purple needle protruding out.

"Shooter in my scope," Ch'p shouted over the comm.

I looked to see he'd stepped out of cover, and was standing out in the open aiming up at the sniper. All ODST's had shields, Grunts included, but as already two of us had demonstrated, the sniper's weapon had little problem dealing with the shields. If Ch'p stayed out there much longer, he was a goner.

Owens leapt out from behind his cover and tackled him to the ground just another round passed through the air where Ch'p had been.

"Ow! Bastard, I had a shot!" he shouted.

"You almost _got _shot you ungrateful son of a—"

"Both of you stay down," I ordered, interrupting the argument. We needed to take this shooter out before he got us all killed.

"Private, you have a shot?" I asked our sniper.

He leaned out from behind cover, looking down his scope. He nodded after a moment, his finger hovering over the trigger.

"Take it!"

There was a retort as the sniper rifle fired off five rounds in rapid succession, but the Elite must've missed because a moment later a sniper shot struck him in the chest and sent him staggering backward. The Elite lost his footing, and went rolling down the hill straight for the boiling, plasma burned landscape. If he hit that and kept rolling across it, he was liable to be burned alive.

I stretched out my armor and selected one of the functions for my secondary shield generator. There was a pulse of energy from my palm and a single, shimmering gold bolt flew through the air and struck the Elite, and suddenly he was surrounded by a renewed aura of shielding that sparked and flared as he rolled across the burnt landscape.

The Elite just managed to push himself onto less scalding land when my shield boost was over taxed. The bar on my HUD representing my secondary shield's charge slowly began to refill. Shield manipulation was a very useful addition in the MJOINR VII that already had a variety of uses. I'd heard other Spartans call them shield abilities.

Ch'p, for whatever reason, stood up from behind cover again, his battle rifle shouldered. Owens reached up to yank him back down, but Ch'p swatted his arm away, refocused his aim, and fired his weapon. The BR66 operated on a miniaturized version of the MAC gun principle, with accurate and devastating effect. When Ch'p squeezed the trigger, the magnetic coils sent a supersonic brass bullet flying forward.

There was the sound of meat being turned into chunks, and a Jackal body toppled down the hill along with a strange weapon that reminded me of an old school needle rifle, but heavily stripped and modified.

"Status," I said over the comm.

"Green," was the chorus of response.

"Give me a moment to catch up Sergeant," the Elite who'd gone rolling said. "I am still fit for battle."

We had two KIA and one man who'd literally fallen behind, but aside from that Bravo Team was still fit for duty. As soon as the Elite who'd fallen back caught up, I gave the signal and we pushed onward. I glanced at the mission clock on my HUD and briefly switched to a map to check Alpha Team's progress. We were marginally on schedule, but Alpha Team was easily ahead.

"Alpha Team," I reported, "We encountered some resistance and we've lost two men, but we're still proceeding."

"Understood Bravo," April acknowledged. "What happened?"

"A sniper caught us off guard ma'am," I said resignedly. "He was out of sensor range and well concealed."

"Roger, we'll see you at the cave entrance," she said, and signed off.

April signed off her comm unit, and returned her attention to her unit. They'd proceeded so far with no enemy resistance, but Bravo confirmed that there was some form of enemy presence there. Even if Jek wasn't here, they could find a lead on his trail.

"You'd think they didn't know we're here," Chief Johnson said quietly as we pushed uninterrupted for the cave entrance. "We're almost there and we haven't found a single Jackal."

"There something wrong with that?" one of the other ODSTs asked. "I'd prefer a nice stroll over people shooting at me any day."

A small burst of needles seemed to materialize from the dense forests, striking several ODST and causing shields to flash, but no one lost shields. We all hit the dirt, and sprays of plasma suppression fire penetrated the vegetation.

"You just had to open your big mouth didn't you?" Johnson barked.

_**Alright, one more chappie should wrap up this first plot arc. Until then how was it? Any comments? Questions? Suggestions? Requests? I'm taking it all. Until next time my readers.**_


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